


Mr. Pickle's Hawaiian Adventure

by Cattraine



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 09:11:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3644781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cattraine/pseuds/Cattraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another AU, based on the episode with Mr. Pickles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Pickle's Hawaiian Adventure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Joe Lawson](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Joe+Lawson).



> I whipped this out in an afternoon. Apologies because its not betaed.

Daniel Williams paced his latest, newly rented apartment, cell clamped to his ear, the other hand waving with agitation as he argued with his ex-wife.

“Rachel, no, that’s not fair! We agreed...no! That means I won’t see her for almost the entire summer! I don’t give a fuck if London is culturally enriching! No! Dammit, Rachel, I just want to be able to spend some quality time with my own daughter too! Hello? Rachel? Goddammit!”

She had hung up on him. He glared at the phone and threw it on the couch, narrowly missing a napping Mr. Pickles, who sat up and meowed at him reprovingly.

“Sorry, buddy.” 

Danny flung himself down on the sofa and ran a hand through his hair with an angry huff. He had moved five thousand miles to be close to his only child, leaving a much loved teaching job and large family behind, only to discover that Rachel’s new, wealthy husband traveled a lot. This was the third time in six months that Rachel wanted to whisk Grace out of the country. This time for two months. 

Mr. Pickles took advantage of his distraction and climbed into his lap and began to knead industriously, purring loudly. 

“Ouch! Ow, ow, ow! Claws!” Danny yelped and grabbed a cushion to insert between his tender anatomy and Pickle’s razor sharp claws. Time to hunt down the nail clippers again. He sighed and shoved his thick glasses up his nose, and petted the white cat absent-mindedly. He simply could not afford to follow Grace to London for the summer. 

The book of essays he was working on needed attention, and he had several other editing jobs that he had to attend to if he wanted to keep a roof over his head. Hawaii was an expensive state to live in, and Danny had left a tenured job behind and although he had secured a part time teaching position at HSU, he was a long way from financial security. He could not leave now. He was an outsider here, and only the recommendation of a fellow colleague at home, Ms. Alice Kawika had secured him the job he held now. Nepotism was rampant in Hawaii, if you were an outsider, a haole, the chances of finding a decent job sank abysmally. 

All this scrambling to earn a decent living meant that once again, Daniel’s own novel had to take a back burner. It was just as well, he was stuck in mid chapter there. His once exciting spy novel now seemed dull and boring. Who would want to read it, if he, himself was already tired of it? He sighed unhappily, and scratched Mr. Pickle’s chin as the cat purred blissfully. 

Mr. Pickles was actually Gracie’s cat, but since Stan was allergic, he lived with Danny. Danny suspected it wasn’t Stan’s allergy; so much as it was Rachel’s abhorrence of cat hair on her expensive furniture that led to Mr. Pickle’s exile to Danny’s lowly apartment. Still, the little cat was good company and Danny was lonely without his large circle of friends and family.

He sighed deeply, gaze roaming around the apartment. It was small and dingy, all he could afford and the view from the windows was awful. It looked directly into the windows of the facing apartment building and Danny had been scandalized to realize he had an excellent view into the bedroom of the adventurous young woman who lived there. He kept the curtains firmly closed most of the time as a result to spare Grace’s delicate sensibilities.

He smiled at the sight of the huge oil portrait of Mr. Pickles that held the pride of place over the sideboard holding Grace’s large collection of cat ornaments displayed on a lace doily. His daughter was a talented artist. The painting had won her a blue ribbon in the school art show last year. A proud Danny had even framed it in a nice, polished wooden frame, complete with brass plaque. He was just glad her collecting had slowed down since she acquired an actual cat, otherwise it would take over the apartment. It was bad enough that he had cat themed kitchenware and bath towels to deal with as well. The apartment was in danger of resembling that of a maiden aunt’s.

To offset that, his home office took up most of the living area, since the small, spare room was Grace’s bedroom. His beloved antique, oak roll-top desk was set in the corner and a sturdy worktable at the side held his computer and stacks of books, journals and papers. Tall shelves held his book collection. This part of the apartment, at least was ample proof that a scholar lived here.

His musings were interrupted by a brisk knock on the door. Sighing, he hefted Mr. Pickles up on his shoulder and stood to answer it hoping that it wasn’t his elderly neighbor with the fern obsession again. He huffed out a breath and opened the door, prepared to decline yet another plate of homemade cookies only to find himself staring at a broad chest. Blinking, he looked farther up into a pair of intense, ocean blue eyes set in a lean, handsome face.

Before he could open his mouth, Blue Eyes shoved a badge under his nose and pushed past him to stride across the room.

“Yeah, its what I thought, Chin. The sight lines are perfect here! This place will do fine.”

Mouth agape, Danny turned to the handsome Asian man who was smiling politely at him, hand extended as he offered a civilized greeting and his badge as well.

“Mr. Williams? We’re Five 0 and we need to borrow access to your apartment for a while for a stake-out.”

Danny frowned at the tall Neanderthal who was now yanking his curtains apart and peering across the way and examined the offered badge carefully. He came from a long line of police officers and fire fighters and only his horrible eyesight and love for literature had kept him out of the police academy himself. 

He knew about the infamous Five-0 team, of course, their deeds made the local news every few weeks and his mother (a police captain herself before retirement) had checked out the HPD and Five-0 thoroughly before he had moved. She had mentioned that the squad was a bit reckless, but got the job done.

“What’s this about? Is my daughter in danger if she stays here? What if… Hey! Leave those alone! Some of those are antique!”

Still clutching Mr. Pickles, Danny yelled at the overly tall Neanderthal, who was now prowling his apartment and examining Gracie’s ceramic cat figurines closely. 

The man had the audacity to smirk up at the painting, then at him and back away, hands held up palms out and back away in an exaggerated manner. He now turned his focus on Danny and the smirk grew at the sight of the outrage of the smaller man still holding a loudly purring Mr. Pickles. 

Mr. Pickles had very poor taste in visitors because he meowed sweetly at the man, who obligingly scritched him under the chin with one big finger, as he loomed over Danny.

“Daniel Williams? I’m afraid we need to commandeer your apartment. One of your neighbors is a suspect in a jewel heist and we have her under surveillance now. We promise not to inconvenience you much. It should only take a few days.”

It didn’t take a few days.

It had been almost two weeks since Commander Steven Pain-in-the-Ass McGarrett had high jacked his apartment and seemingly moved in and Danny was rapidly losing the will to live.

The man took up way too much space and he was very annoying. While Daniel slaved away at his computer over his editing, or graded student essays, McGarrett took over his couch and kitchen and endeared himself to Mr. Pickles by bringing him fresh cat treats and jingling bouncy balls. 

Steve also made hideous green smoothies in his blender and nearly stank him out of the house by microwaving scrambled eggs, and the Philistine actually put butter in his coffee and asked Danny endless, nosy questions about his personal life. Clearly the man had been living in a jungle somewhere because he had the social skills of an orangutan. 

Granted, he did a sterling job of surveillance with his high tech equipment and Danny actually enjoyed the company spent with his SIC, Chin Ho Kelly and his cute rookie cousin, Kono Kalakaua—when they were there. Steve seemed to be the one who took on the lion’s share of the surveillance shifts, which for some reason had caused Kono deep amusement when Danny had innocently inquired as to why. She had sputtered out an excuse and left shortly thereafter, cackling with laughter, mystifying Danny further. 

He puttered around the kitchen as he prepared one of his mother’s recipes for Italian sausage with ziti pasta and garlic bread for (McGarrett, despite his apparent health kick, ate like a horse) dinner. Still, it was nice to cook for another person who had an appetite and to just have someone to share space with besides Mr. Pickles. 

Mr. Pickles, the fickle traitor that he was, adored McGarrett and ran to meet him whenever he came in, expecting to be scooped up and cuddled immediately. Shoulder rides with Steve were a big deal with Pickles. He even slept with him now, curled up on his chest on the couch near the bank of surveillance equipment, when the man dozed lightly when his suspect was not at home. Danny, when he covered them with his granny’s hand knit afghan did not find them cute at all.

Danny found that while he missed Grace, Steve occupied much of his free time. Steve had even horned in on one of their father and daughter Skype sessions and offered her advice on the best tourist spots in London. Apparently they agreed that the Tower of London with its resident ravens, was way cool. He had even invited her over to his house when she got home, because apparently it had a private beach. They both ignored Danny’s protests that he did not like water and scoffed at his excuses and ganged up on him until he caved and agreed they would visit Steve and have a barbeque on his lanai when Grace came home. Steve wore a smug expression for three days after that.

Danny thought things were going a bit too far when he came home from teaching his Friday afternoon freshman English class, ready to collapse after a shower for a nap and found himself handed a pair of board shorts, a tee shirt and worse of all, a gaudy pair of flip flops, then hustled into the bathroom to change, after McGarrett announced they were going shopping at the International Market. Apparently Steve had forgotten his mother’s birthday and was in deep shit and in need of gift advice.

In fact Steve had also apparently decided that Danny spent too much time inside and needed regular exercise and outings in the bright Hawaiian sun. So it became habit when Chin or Kono came on shift to drag Danny outside for educational field trips because Steve was horrified that while Danny had lived here for almost a year, he had yet to do much exploring of the islands.

“You’ll go blind staring at that computer all day, Danno!”

“Steven, might I remind you that I am already legally blind without my glasses, you Neanderthal animal. Ok, ok, let go of my arm, I’m coming! And don’t call me Danno! That is Grace’s private name for me!”

“Sure thing, Danno!”

2

Steve McGarrett found himself whistling cheerfully as he drove to Danny’s house, or rather, to work. He was surprised to find that he was actually glad that the surveillance on Emma Mills was taking so long. At first it had been merely entertaining to wind the diminutive scholar up, watch those bright blue eyes narrow behind the thick lens of his glasses as he snapped back at Steve, hands waving in the air as he ranted. As he got to know the man, he had become more intrigued. Interested enough to surreptitiously pull up his file.

Daniel Williams came from an impressive line of policemen and fire fighters dedicated to community service, but because of his sight problems, had instead chosen an academic career. He had left a tenured position to follow his only child to Hawaii after his ex wife remarried a wealthy real estate developer. Danny had given up a lot to be close to his daughter. He had been forced to sell his home in Hoboken and leave a secure university position to move to an unfamiliar state in ‘the middle of the Pacific Ocean, Steven’ if he wanted to spend quality time with his daughter.

He did it without complaint, except for the issues he had with his new surroundings—“Bugs, Steve! Bugs the size of helicopters!” “Must it rain every day?” “Do people not wear professional clothing here, or real shoes? Get away from me with those flip flops!” ”Stop telling my neighbors we are married, McGarrett!”

McGarrett chuckled at that last one. It was fun to tease Danny in front of Ruth, when she dropped by with a plate of homemade goodies for them. He enjoyed tucking Danny under his arm (where he fit perfectly) and dropping casual smooches on the top of the blond head or his flustered, rose pink face. He enjoyed teasing him about his propensity for colorful socks and bow ties and old man vests.

Yet Danny worked hard, muttering invective over piles of freshman essays, staying up late to meet his editing deadlines, showing up early for the classes he taught, always available to help any of his students. He took joy in his daughter and refused to admit just how fond he was of his cat. He puttered around his kitchen, cooking ‘real food, Steven, not spam’ and Steve refused to admit to himself how charmed he was by the little blond in his cheerful apron and thick glasses as he poked Steve and ordered him to taste the spaghetti sauce he was cooking from scratch. 

Steve could easily get used to this, used to having Danny around, sharing his space on a daily basis, and not just for his cooking skills and sharp wits. 

The man seemingly had no clue just how eye-catching he was. He stood only 5’5’’, but from the top of his ruffled blond head to the soles of his small feet, he was a well- built, attractive man. Steve had nearly choked on his tongue the first time he saw Danny in board shorts as he tried to teach the blond the basics of surfing. When he wasn’t surreptitiously admiring his partner, the former SEAL had spent a lot of time that day warning the local surf bunnies off with a glare, as they too eyed the blond’s broad shoulders, trim waist and pert behind.

If Steve became concerned for Danny’s health, what of it? The man clearly needed someone to watch over him or he would never leave the sanctity of his home office, so Steve took every opportunity to introduce his new friend to the people and places on the islands he loved. And if he found the man unbearably cute as he peered nearsightedly through his glasses at the exhibits in the museum they were visiting or at the petroglyphs on the rock face that Steve showed him while hiking, well, it was no one else’s business but his own. It was good to have a buddy to hang out with again.

They returned to the apartment after a run to the farmer’s market, bickering over whether to grill steak (Danny’s preference) over tuna (Steve’s) for dinner, only to find Chin rapidly packing up the equipment. Emma’s partner had finally contacted her and arranged a drop point for the diamonds and Chin had recorded everything. All that remained was the capture and arrest. They had three hours to get to the place and set up an ambush.

Snapping out questions as he helped Chin heft the equipment cases and on the phone to Kono and someone called Jerry, totally focused on the mission, Steve never noticed Danny’s crestfallen look as they hurried out the door.

Danny blinked rapidly at the shut door, then set his grocery bag on the counter as Mr. Pickles wound around his ankles in greeting with a soft inquiring chirp. Sighing deeply, he bent and picked up the cat, holding him more for comfort then necessity as he wondered if he would see McGarrett anytime soon. He set Pickles on the counter and shoved the packages of meat into the freezer, appetite suddenly gone.

Two days later there was still no peep from any of Five-0 and Danny was giving Mr. Pickles his evening constitutional in the tiny courtyard garden of his apartment building, patiently holding the leash to the cat’s harness while Pickles sniffed curiously at a fern, when a big hand clamped on the back of his neck and a hard object was jabbed into his ribs.

The man was taller, wider and outweighed Danny by at least eighty pounds, his tattooed biceps bulging with steroid enhanced muscle. His breath was atrocious. He also had no idea that he was annoying the shit out of a man who had been slowly fuming for several days about a certain rude Commander who did not even have the courtesy to say goodbye properly.

“You’re McGarrett’s haole bitch and you’re coming with me. I’m going to teach that cop bastard not to mess with my bizness.” 

The thug snarled into his ear, hand clamping harder on the nape of Danny’s neck. Great, his grammar was atrocious as well. Danny was not a fan of pidgin.

Danny caught a glimpse of Ruth Tannenbaum’s wide-eyed face in the upper window and knew she would be on the phone to 911 immediately. Sometimes nosy old ladies were better than alarm systems. Calmly, Danny released Mr. Pickle’s leash, and flexed his hands, knowing he would not stray far.

“Once I get done wif you, Five-0 will know who’s boss of this city!” 

Mr. Halitosis continued to monologue and Danny stilled himself and waited for that perfect moment when the idiot paused to wave his gun around (.38 caliber he noted dispassionately). The second he did, Danny moved. He stomped hard back on the man’s bare toes (which was yet another reason to wear proper footwear instead of flip flops—the crunch was very satisfying), reached back and grabbed and twisted the thick wrist holding him, paralyzing that arm and at the same time ducked and turned and gave a quick one-two jab to the thick gut combined with a hard upper punch to the man’s nose. That crunch was very satisfying as well.

Big Ugly’s hand clamped on the gun even as he squealed and tried to clamp a hand over his broken snout and a shot burned by Danny’s left bicep as he used the man’s own momentum and body weight to flip him in a hard throw to the concrete walk. The gun went flying. Before the dazed man could recover, Danny did a little Jersey flamenco dance and kicked him in the head a couple of times with his hand made Italian loafers, putting him down and out for the count.

He was seated on a bench beside the man’s prone body, trying to wrap his hankie around the wound on his arm while Mr. Pickles paraded proudly up and down the man’s back, tail high and purring loudly, when a wild-eyed Steve McGarrett ran up, gun in hand, followed by what looked like half of the HPD.

Danny sniffed in annoyance at the gobsmacked look on the former SEAL’s face. Did he really think Danny Williams was incapable of defending himself? Danny had grown up the shortest guy in his entire Middle and High School in a family of towering police officers. He had been fighting since he was five years old. He didn’t have a black belt in Tae Kwan Do for nothing.

“Really Steven, close your mouth. You look like you’re catching flies. His gun is over there in that hibiscus bush.” 

He snapped, still peeved at the SEAL and angry at himself for caring. He kept his attention on stubbornly trying to knot the handkerchief over his small flesh wound. His nice white dress shirt was ruined and his hand was shaking just a bit from the adrenaline as he tried to push his glasses up his nose.

Steve clamped his mouth shut obediently, holstered his Glock and gestured for Duke and the others to take the unconscious thug into custody. Mr. Pickles gave a pleased mmmrp at the sight of his second favorite person and trotted over to rub against Steve’s ankles. 

McGarrett took in the downcast, flushed face and the trembling hands and knelt quickly in front of the blond, big hands catching and holding his small ones in a warm, comforting grip. He was relieved to see that Danny’s wound was minor. He had nearly had a heart attack when he got Ruth’s hysterical call and pieced together what she was trying to say. Swallowing hard, he reached out and gently pushed Danny’s glasses up the bridge of his nose with one finger and caught those clear blue eyes with his.

“I heard you were causing trouble here, Danno. Thought I’d check it out.”

It was a feeble joke and from Danny’s haughty sniff, he knew it, as he glared at Steve, daring him to make a big deal over the situation. Steve huffed out a breath and broke, reached over and grabbed the smaller man and hauled him up into a close embrace and holding him tight.

“Crap, Danno, you scared me to death.”

He bent and buried his nose in bright blond hair, breathing him in, wet eyes closed with relief at having him here in his arms, warm and acerbic and alive.  
Danny held him just as hard, hands clutching the back of his tee shirt, even though he was already snarking.

“Really, Steven, people are starting to talk. The entire HPD is going to think we’re married or something.” 

His voice was muffled, breath warm against Steve’s collarbone as he seemingly tried to burrow even closer. He was still shaking a bit. Steve held him harder when he tried to step away and after a couple of minutes, Danny gave a little snort of amusement and relaxed in his arms as they stood swaying back and forth a bit, an ecstatic Mr. Pickles winding happily around their ankles.

“You’re not going to let go, are you?” He sounded amused now.

Steve gave him another squeeze and held on tight.

“Nope.”


End file.
